


Beau Rosette

by SwitzyFangirl



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Dubious Consent, Flashbacks, Half-Sibling Incest, Hate Sex, Love/Hate, M/M, Parenthood, Past Character Death, Past Relationship(s), Pirates, Polygamous Relationships, Sibling Incest, War, World War I, World War II
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-12
Updated: 2014-01-09
Packaged: 2018-01-04 10:38:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1080016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwitzyFangirl/pseuds/SwitzyFangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The State of Teutonic Order and Spain had been introduced by their bosses. They had been ordered to go and find the personification of the Kingdom of France, who had recently finished training under the Kingdom of Scotland. They find a young girl swinging a sword twice her size, short blond curls falling in her face. This is the story of the personifications of the Teutonic Knights, Spain, and the Kingdom of France. Wars ravage lands, leaders fall, names change. Love can rip a country to pieces. Dissolution is the ultimate punishment. Family dies and is reborn again, or never returns. All that you have is the past and tomorrow, and maybe not even that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Notes

**Author's Note:**

> This is just my notes before the beginning. I should have the first chapter up in a few days.

Description: The State of Teutonic Order and Spain had been introduced by their bosses. They had been ordered to go and find the personification of the Kingdom of France, who had recently finished training under the Kingdom of Scotland. They find a young girl swinging a sword twice her size, short blond curls falling in her face. This is the story of the personifications of the Teutonic Knights, Spain, and the Kingdom of France. Wars ravage lands, leaders fall, names change. Love can rip a country to pieces. Dissolution is the ultimate punishment. Family dies and is reborn again, or never returns. All that you have is the past and tomorrow, and maybe not even that. 

Timeline: This story would take place in the 15th century, at least in the beginning. I’m not sure if Prussia or Spain would have met France yet, but at least in this story that haven’t met the personification. Around this period of time Iberia, Gaul, and West Francia would have dissolved. The Holy Roman Empire would not have dissolved for another 300 and something years. 

Language: Latin would be the most widely spread language in the beginning of this story. Each nation is able to speak multiple languages. After spending so much time with Scotland I believe France would have learning English and Scottish in addition to Latin and his own language. Spain would speak Latin, Spanish, and a small amount of German. Prussia would likely speak Latin, German, and Polish. So in the beginning all words written in English will be spoken by the characters in Latin. After England becomes a large power however, their main language will be English. Until then there will be no use of French, German, or Spanish words because Latin would be each of their second languages. 

Relationships: In the beginning Hungary, Romania, and the State of Teutonic Order would have been working together here and there to try and beat the Ottoman Empire. Spain and Portugal would have a very strained relationship, even as brothers. France would be very focused on the Auld Alliance, since Scotland is a very fierce nation at this time and in control of his brothers. 

Names:  
Romania was in fact a part of the Ottoman Empire at this time. Later on he would be the Kingdom of Romania after May 9th 1877 when he declared independence from the Ottoman Empire. Hungary and Prussia referring to him as Romania would be simply at his request, since he was only known as a part of the Ottoman Empire at the time. 

The State of Teutonic Order is simply too long, even for a country who thinks himself as “awesome” as Prussia does. He will be refered to as simply the Teutonic Knights or the Order throughout the story until Holy Rome is dissolved and he becomes the Kingdom of Prussia. The Kingdom of Prussia is also to long, so unless he is being formally addressed he will be Prussia.

The Kingdom of France is also to long, so France will simply be France. 

The Commonwealth of Poland will probably only be mentioned as I do not know how I would be able to cast Poland in early history speaking Latin, since there was no word for “like” in Latin, as far as I know. Since he will only be mentioned he will get his full name used. 

The Russian Empire contains Ukraine and Belarus in addition to Russia. It may or may not contain Estonia and Latvia as well, I have found no source that denies or proves this fact. Lithuania however is part of the Commonwealth of Poland. 

Nordics:  
Since they were Vikings and spent their time exploring during this point of history they will probably only be mentioned briefly.


	2. Champ de Fleurs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A meeting that is either gods' blessed or gods' cursed for the Kingdom of France. A little history is revealed, mostly backstory. Rome is an asshole so far, if you don't think about what grief he is going through as well. Then he's a bit less of an asshole.

France grit his teeth, holding the hilt of the sword as he had been taught, and brought his arm forward at just the right angle to slice his practice dummy in half. Silence rained, the only noise the sound of his blade sliding into the scabbard. He dropped it to the ground without a sound and wiped at his forehead. Heavy breaths panted out, he closed big blue eyes and turned, fumbling for his canteen. He popped the top, taking a long drink. He sighed, licked his lips, and capped it before dropping and adjusting his legs to sit.

Leaves rustled and he opened his eyes a fraction, tongue sliding out to moisten his already drying lips. There was no one around for miles, and that sound was distinctly human. Especially the shouts of “I’m awesome” and “You wish you were this awesome”. France flinched at the sound of his father’s tongue being abused in such a way.

“Shut up Gil, you’ll frighten all the animals away!” A voice far more fluent in Latin snapped at him. A shriek quickly followed as the boy came tumbling through a bush and right in front of France. He landed on his ass, glaring back at where he’d come from. “Gilbert!”

A grumbling albino peaked his head through the bush and his eyes flicked to France. “Uh, Spain, did you forget something?”  

Spain looked in the same direction. “Oh, um, sorry.”

France rolled his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

The Order cart wheeled over, sword clinking in his scabbard. “Looking for the personification of the Kingdom of France. Have we found them?”

France ground his teeth together. “You’re hurting my ears. Quiet down you stupid barbarian!”

“Hey! I resent being called a barbarian!” The Order replied, red eyes narrowing.

Spain rolled his eyes. “Not again, dear god, not again.”

The Order proceeded to begin ranting about how awesome he was. He stopped after a while and sat down, panting and clearing his throat. “So you, uh, never answered our question.”

“Yes, I am the Kingdom of France. Now, shut your mouth or I’ll cut your tongue out. You are so stupid!” France stood and grabbed his scabbard. “Get off my land you annoying idiot!”

“Uh, we share a father?” Spain raised a hand.

France unsheathed his sword and pointed it at the Spaniard. “I currently find myself hating my papa; I blame him for the death of my mother and my grandmother’s eternal sleep. Get out.”

The Order rolled his eyes and drew his own sword. He rushed France, red eyes blazing with a fire that only the Germanics had learned to control. France met the thrust of his blade with a simple block, weaving away. The strength behind the thrust made his arm go numb, but that was better than the alternative. The Germanic nation was nowhere near the warrior Scotland was. He had nowhere near the control either, as he proved when he roared, and lunged for France.

France blocked again, spinning his leg to hit the Order in the thigh. The Order’s leg faltered and he barely managed to avoid impaling himself on France’s blade.

The Order smirked, red eyes gleaming with excitement. “You’re good.”

France shook his head. “My teacher is better. He would have killed you by now.”

The Order launched forward and France barely managed to dodge the strike. He danced out of the way, pouting in irritation at the Germanic nation. “Bah!” He swept his blade to the side and above, angling it to reflect the sunlight. “You’ve signed for your own death barbarian!” He charged forward, blade held aloft, eyes steeled.

The Order blocked the strike and moved to deal his own, slicing down France’s sword arm, a thin line of blood appearing at the cut. It was a warning strike that should have ended the battle.

France bit back a cry of pain, blood dripping down his chin, and jumped back. His right arm was limp at his side and the sword dropped. Tears pricked his blue eyes, but he forced his left to reach down and grab the blade. Mentally he thanked Scotland for forcing him to learn to wield the blade with both hands.

The Order laughed. “Yield. No more blood needs to be spilled. Just yield to the awesome me!”

France had the blade at his throat a moment later, pinning the knight to the ground. His blue eyes sang with rage and blood lust.

_“Come home France.” Rome smiled down at him before glancing toward the open coffin where his mother laid. “Come home, come home to papa.”_

_France turned on him, eyes red and swollen from tears. “Y-you killed her!” He sobbed, fists clenched at his side. “You killed mama and grandma and now you want me to go with you! How dare you!”_

_Rome shook his head. “War is-“_

_“She loved you and you killed her. You’re a monster. You are not my father!” France turned away and lifted an arm up to wipe at fresh tears. Rome grabbed his shoulder in a large hand, grip firm._

_“Listen to your elders.” Rome’s cheerful disposition faded. “I am your father and you will obey me. Yield to me.”_

_“Never!” He spat in reply. “Mama never did, so neither shall I!”_

_Rome threw him across the graveyard into a tomb stone so hard the stone shattered underneath him._

_He didn’t want to cry. He did. His body shook his horrible sobs and blood began to soak through his tunic. He cried for his mother, his grandmother. Neither came. They never would. They were gone, forever. He would never listen to Gaul’s stories or feel West Francia’s arms around him, comforting him when he fell or was sick._

_He didn’t know how long he laid motionless against the sharp stone before strong arms wrapped around him and he was held close to a warm body. A hand weaved in his hair. “Shhhhhh…lad. He’s gone for now. Let’s go.”_

_France nodded, clinging to the stranger._

“You are just like papa! Yield! Do as you’re told! I won’t do it! I refuse! No! No! No! No! N-“ He stopped his shouting when a sword pressed to his neck, and he looked up. He met Spain’s green eyes with his own overflowing blue, trembling in anger and an age old fear.

Spain’s hand shook in indecision. The little blond didn’t seem like he _wanted_ to kill anyone. He was just frightened, terrified, of something. Whatever it was, the Order had reminded him of it, and he’d been taken over by fear. “Get up.” He ordered.

France obeyed, dropping his sword beside the Order’s head. He reached up and adjusted his hair before walking towards wear he’d dropped his hat and put it on. “You work for papa?” He asked, biting hip.

“Dude, Rome’s gone. My dad killed him and died not long after.” The Order sat up, sheathing his blade.

“I know he’s dead! There are those who still work for him!” France replied snappily. “Ian warned me about them!”

“Who’s Ian?” Spain and the Order chorused.

“Idiots.” France shook his head. “Ian is the first son of Great Britannica and Rome. One of the oldest of Rome’s children.”

“How many kids does Rome have?” The Order asked.

France thought for a moment. He sat down and rested his chin on his fist, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Well there’s the Nordic brothers, Ian and his brothers, myself, Spain and Portugal, Greece and Egypt who are currently part of the Ottoman Empire, and the two brothers Italian Republic. So that’s 16 that I know of. There may be more.”

Spain and the Order shuddered. “That many kids?”

“Papa really got around.” Spain shook his head. “How many wives did he _have_?”

They looked to France who sighed. “Ancient Iberia, West Francia, Scandinavia, Great Britannica, Ancient Egypt, and Ancient Greece were members of his harem. He also had a lover for a bodyguard, Germania, and I’ve heard rumors that the Holy Roman Empire is their son, but it has not been proven. That’s why he wasn’t in my count. However Rome never married. Mama said it was because he was in love with her eldest brother Germania. Uncle Scandinavia said the same.”

The Order gulped and shielded his eyes. “Ewwww! Germania’s my _dad_!”

France grinned at him. “Maybe you’re a son of Rome as well.”

What little color the Order possessed drained from his face. “My dad…as my _mom_? Hell no!”

“Male nations can have kids you know.” Spain put in. “I heard that Scandinavia is a man. Long blond hair runs in your family Gil.”

“A grandson of Gaul and a son of Rome in one day.” France shook his head. “The gods curse this day. They curse _me_.”


End file.
